


It all started here

by JellyfishWindChime



Category: South Park
Genre: Foster Care, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:09:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29898159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JellyfishWindChime/pseuds/JellyfishWindChime
Summary: Kenny’s had a shit life, ya know? It’s just one of those things. He reminisces on his past and tries to move towards the future.This’ll be a multi chapter fic, and cw for death, suicide, hanging, attempted suicide, possible sexual assault, but I’m not sure if I’ll leave that bit in. Comments, questions, hate mail? I’d love to hear it. <3
Relationships: Henrietta Biggle/Kenny McCormick, To be added later
Kudos: 2





	It all started here

Kenny always had an easy smile, from childhood to adulthood. He was always seen as a happy-go-lucky person, the one that people looked at with softness. He was the kind of guy that, at every job he ever had, would at least have one middle aged woman treat him as an adopted son. There was just something about him, something that made people instinctively flock to him, an internal sunshine that radiated. He didn’t really understand, but it never bothered him. He liked being loved. Unlike his partner, Henrietta, who didn't seem to ever want aggressive amounts of attention, he always lit up at the sound of his name. 

At 19, he felt like he had life figured out, actually. Despite everything that had led up to this point, he was happy. Things were good. Finally. He was in his own apartment, he’d finally got up the energy to do the dishes and clean the rarely-slept-in bedroom— he even learned how to make a mug cake from scratch. All on his own. He sat down on the couch and closed his eyes, allowing his mind to wander to the past. 

He’d been in and out of foster homes since he was a freshman in high school, when his dad went to prison. It didn’t shock him, even back then. That kind of thing was to be expected. He wasn’t as close to his dad anymore by that point, anyway. What really hurt was his mother up and moving to another state, leaving behind her three kids with their father, three days after Christmas, when he was 13. She just walked off, hands warmed by the gloves Kenny had given her. The gloves had been a Christmas gift from the church, one of the only three gifts he’d gotten that year, other than a bible he’d never read and a shirt with a bible verse blazing across the front. Despite all the nights curled up with a cup of instant ramen in one hand and any of his assortment of Christian romance novels given to him by a youth pastor, he wasn't Christian, and he didn’t pretend to be. He and his siblings only went to church twice a week because they fed them there, and Kenny appreciated the validation and praise when he rattled off memorized bible verses with ease. The books the youth pastor gave him weren’t even good, but damn if they didn't make him hide his face in delighted embarrassment with cheesy romance plots and dramatic reveals.

But he never hated her for that. He rationalized the abandonment, either for her sake or his own. She had her own things going on, things that he couldn’t save her from. And as for his dad-- He wasn’t a bad father, not in Kenny’s eyes. He kept trying his best to put food on the table for his kids, but it just didn’t work out sometimes. Kenny often wondered if he hated having kids. Most of the time he’d be in his room alone, a box of Mountain Dew and a box of canned beer within easy reach from the bed, radio or tv blasting all night, no matter what. Cigarette smoke could be inhaled from any room of the house, something that Kenny hated more than anything else. He was worried that he would go to school smelling like that, mostly.

Kevin and Kenny became the closest thing Karen had to parents rather quickly, with Kenny staying up late and reading aloud to her often, singing off key for any book that had songs in it. She laughed, she cried, she yelled and interrupted, especially during parts of stories that caused emotional turmoil. Cherished moments. Karen still had issues reading, and everyone else seemed to get frustrated with her, but Kenny didn’t mind. He really liked his reading voice, especially when it was audible. He helped her with homework, helped her with chores, and of course, did what he could to get her presents. 

He was devastated when the foster home they moved into had put in a request to have her moved to another foster home for behavioral issues. He tried defending her, but they just wouldn’t have it. For the first time in a long time, Kevin and Kenny held each other and cried.

After a month, they were allowed to write letters back and forth. Karen’s handwriting was awful, an atrocious crime between pencil and paper, smudges of graphite across the page. He liked how he could almost see her between the lines, her personality spilled across the blue and white with the stabs of gray that looped. He showed Kevin, recounting the time when she thought cursive writing was just curves and squiggles, and had gotten in trouble at school for turning in an assignment in gibberish waves.

They eventually got to the point where they were allowed to call, but they knew it was monitored, so the conversations had to stick to positives. Like the cartoons they loved, and the late night to shows that technically they weren’t allowed to be up watching. It wasn’t fair, still. He missed her. He hated that they took her away from him. As they grew older and she moved from group home to group home, it made it impossible to keep in contact. None of his social workers seemed to have direct contact with her. 

Their reunion was very tentative, neither having seen each other in four or five years, each one observing the changes in the other. Karen was taller. She’d developed one hell of a resting bitch face, too. Kenny held his arms out first, and Karen ran into them. Everything faded out. It was like they were kids again, him reading aloud to her in the middle of the night. He clung to her desperately. He never wanted to let her go. 

And now, the night before Halloween, he was elated. He had plans to have her come over, to meet some of his friends. Even with all that shit, he was thriving now. Things were great! It was a new start, a new life. He put a hand to his chest, heart still beating, strong and proud. It all started here.


End file.
